


Path of Fire, The Departing (Commander Ferenth's story)

by Rinselius



Series: GW2 Fanfiction - Commander Ferenth [1]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Path of Fire spoilers, PoF The Departing, The Departing, guild wars 2 fanfiction, guild wars 2 spoilers, gw2 fanfiction, gw2 spoilers, path of fire, pof spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 01:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13559454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinselius/pseuds/Rinselius
Summary: A reimagining of the story step in the Path of Fire story, The Departing, featuring one of my Commander characters. Commander Ferenth has lost his life and his charge Aurene, scion of Glint, in an ambush by the human god Balthazar. Though his body was able to be revived, his spirit remains lost- trapped in the Mists. If they are to have any hope of saving him, his guild must find a way back into the Mists to help the Commander find himself and return to his body again.





	Path of Fire, The Departing (Commander Ferenth's story)

**Author's Note:**

> Work In Progress
> 
> Other than the changes specifically in my reimagining of this particular story step some headcanons from previous stories are noted below:
> 
> 1\. When Trahearne died his spirit was absorbed into Caladbolg and since the time it was restored he has been able to communicate with it's wielder in limited circumstances.
> 
> 2\. Commander Ferenth and Canach began a relationship shortly after the conclusion of the Heart of Thorns story.

“The Commander is down there, bring this ship down NOW!” Canach snarled at the pilot. He grimaced and shook his head.

“Sorry sir-”

“If you are so sorry then bring us down quickly.” Rytlock put a hand on Canach’s shoulder.

“Calm down, bringing the ship into that firestorm is just going to get us all killed.”

Canach gritted his teeth hard. It was difficult to make out what was happening, but Ferenth was clearly injured, limping away from a line of fire the God of War had created on the ground nearby. If they didn’t get there soon…

Suddenly there was a flash of blue next to the airship accompanied by wild screeching. A small dragon streamed through the sky towards Balthazar.

“Is that Aurene? What does she think she’s doing?” Canach said incredulously. The electronic communicator strapped to Kasmeer’s waist buzzed to life.

“Aurene? She disappeared in a sudden flash not long ago. What’s going on? Is the Commander okay? I can’t reach him on his communicator,” Taimi’s urgent voice rose from the device.

“Yes, Aurene is here Taimi. We don’t have to time to talk, Ferenth is in trouble and she is headed right towards him and Balthazar,” Kasmeer’s eyes widened and her voice was tense as she watched the little dragon race towards the God. Canach was gripping the side of the airship so hard his knuckles were white.

“There must be _some_ way to get down there faster,” Canach said. He scanned frantically for something that would help. “Get us a little closer and I will jump,” he said moving to unravel a length of rope tied to the side of the ship. No one said anything. They watched as Balthazar turned his attention to Aurene. To her credit the dragon did not prove an easy target, but was clearly outmatched by the god. When she stopped to try and mount a counterattack Balthazar handily blocked the attack and had her snared with magical chains. The Commander was coming into clearer view now, stumbling towards Aurene. Kasmeer glanced to the side. Canach had already descended down the rope. When she looked back Balthazar had turned his attention towards Ferenth. He had his sword ready for a death blow. Kasmeer screamed as she watched the God’s massive sword hit him. Hard.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Canach was glad the scream from Kasmeer had probably blocked his own wordless cry as he watched Ferenth go down. _Hold it together_. He willed his hands to stop shaking as he alighted on a lower platform leading up to the plateau. _He’s been through worse before. He can make it_. He forced himself to stop replaying the sight of the sword hitting Ferenth’s body. A sight that could have been ripped directly from his nightmares. 

As he reached the top platform he saw that Balthazar and Aurene were gone. All that remained was the crumpled body of the commander. He put his hand to his mouth as a wave of nausea passed through him. He turned around and shouted hoarsely at the ship slowly descending to the platform.

“Medic! Get a medic down here the Commander needs help!”

His legs felt like lead as he moved toward Ferenth’s body. He kneeled down and rolled him onto his back. His breastplate had split in half and golden sap was oozing from a large gnash in his chest. His eyes were half open and unblinking. More sap was running from the sides of his mouth and a smaller gnash in his forehead. Canach had never seen him look this bad. He reached toward the young Sylvari through their shared empathic bond but felt nothing but a gaping void. This couldn’t be real. He spotted Caladbolg lying some distance away and moved to grab it. He clutched the living weapon with shaking hands and brought it to the Commander’s body. Not even knowing what he was doing, he placed it in Ferenth’s limp hand.

“Trahearne, damn you, if you’re in there SAVE HIM,” he whispered desperately at the blade. There was no response. Canach heard the sound of Rytlock’s footsteps quickly ascending to the platform.

“Canach, what-” Rytlock stopped mid sentence when he saw the older Sylvari kneeling over the Commander’s body. The Charr stared in disbelief, further words escaping him.

“Oh no no no no” Kasmeer was close behind. She walked to Ferenth’s fallen form and started sobbing. Canach couldn’t handle it. He got up and nearly screamed the words “WHERE is that medic? Kasmeer would you _stop_ that it’s not helping anything”. This only caused her sobs to increase interspersed with hiccups. 

A sylvari finally came rushing up to the platform, eyes wide. Canach moved away to let the medic do his work and rested his head against one of the rocky columns on the outer edge of the plateau. The medic let out a long breath.

“This is not good, not good at all” he muttered to himself. “Lady Kasmeer may I ask you to move away while I do my work?” Kasmeer stifled her sobs to a quiet whimper as she moved away. Silence stretched out for what seemed like an eternity. Canach risked a glance back. The medic was moving his hand down Ferenth’s chest as he sealed the gnash there.

“Is he…?” Canach asked, even though he already knew the answer. The tall Sylvari glanced up from his work. “No he is… not alive. I am going to try to resuscitate him. It would have been pointless, however, had I not stopped the bleeding first,” his voice was calm. Canach dared to hope.

“You can do that?”

“I can try but he may be too far gone. Now please let me concentrate. This will take all of my focus.”

Canach returned his head to the stone column in front of him. “Please,” he whispered.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

I felt weak, vague. A chill wind blew past me bringing disembodied whispers with it. I looked at my surroundings. The sky was the dull shade of an overcast day with an unnatural hue that dyed everything an eerie green. The landscape was equally as bleak. Twisted rock formations reached upwards alongside scattered skeletal trees with jagged thorns and sparse leaves. The ground was mostly dirt with patchy spots of grass. _Where is this?_ I thought to myself. _I was… where am I?_ Try as I might I couldn’t recall much of anything before this moment. Thoughts were difficult to focus. Memories felt just out of reach. Surely I had a past? Nothing seemed certain, though a feeling that I shouldn’t be here nagged at the back of my mind.

Voices in the distance caught my attention. Without considering, I found myself walking toward them. As I approached, I made out the figure of an Elonian woman with a head full of tight curls talking to a rather strange looking person behind the bars of a cage. The prisoner’s elaborate and ornate garments were topped with a particularly large crown that had strands of gold that framed their eyes. Their dark leathery skin was pulled tight over their face. A large golden hoop ran from their jaw and hung down to below their chin. Royalty of some sort?

“My life is over. How does freeing you help me?” I heard the Elonian woman say.

“I can give you a new life—endless, full of all the purpose and opportunity that eluded you the first time. A chance to get it right,” the imprisoned person offered smoothly in a rumbling gravely sort of voice.

“I don’t want to be one of your Awakened. That’s why I fled your rule in the first place,” she retorted.

“It doesn’t matter. Deserter, defector, or exile—help me now and all will be forgiven.”

“No… I’m where I ought to be. I accept whatever the afterlife has in store for me. You should, too.”

“Never,” the prisoner sneered at her. “For me, there is no ‘after’ life. I exist forever. I rule, I dominate… and I’ve only just begun.”

The Elonian woman turned away. Compared to the person in the cage who had a solid form, she was transparent. I felt this was strange somehow, though I could not think of why. The ornately dressed prisoner noticed me standing nearby and turned their attention to me.

“You there! Come here. Over here! We can help each other. What is your name?” they asked me expectantly.

“My name?” I echoed. “I don’t even know who I am. Or where I am… Or how I got here.”

“You died- It happens,” the prisoner said callously.

 _Died?_ I knew this information had a weight to it but could not get myself to acknowledge its importance. I was empty. I couldn’t feel much of anything. The prisoner continued talking.

“Welcome to the Domain of the Lost. I am, of course, King Palawa Joko.” 

I looked at his face blankly.  “King Joko? I… I’m sorry I don’t know that name.”

“Liar!” he fumed. “All who take breath know me! I am King Joko the Inevitable, the last Primeval King, Joko the Undying, the Scourge of Vabbi. Joko the Feared, Joko the Beloved, Joko the Eternal Monarch of All. How dare you claim to not know who I am!”

As he asserted all this I felt vaguely uneasy. I looked from the Elonian woman back to Joko.

“But you’re not a spirit. What are you doing here?”

“I was deceived by the fallen god Balthazar,” he growled. “I led him here to to claim spirits for his army. In exchange, I was promised a share of his new recruits. But he betrayed me and stranded me here instead. Perfidy! From now on, the only god I trust is me.”

At this the Elonian woman became incensed. “You are no god!” she exclaimed. “You are an abomination inflicted upon the Crystal Desert like a wound. Like a plague.”

“I am a god,” Joko retorted affronted. “God-King of Elona, the Crystal Desert, and all their environs. Genuflect, peasant!” he commanded. The woman was unfazed. 

“You have no authority here,” she said. “Only the Judge does. He was appointed by Grenth, a true god.” Joko looked outraged. 

“Fah! Gods, dragons, nations—soon all will grovel at the feet of Palawa Joko!” 

Nenah ignored Joko and walked a few paces toward me. Her face softened.

“Come, gentle spirit,” she said kindly. “You must take the next steps, and I’ve heard enough of Joko’s blasphemies.” She beckoned me towards her with a wave of her hand and walked to a nearby footpath in the dirt. I took one last look at the being called Joko and went to follow her down the path.

“The Domain of the Lost is dangerous,” the Elonian woman cautioned, “stay close to me.” 

I walked beside her for a time in silence. After a while I asked “Who is the Judge?”

“He is a loyal servant of Grenth, charged with sending all the spirits who come through here to their appointed place,” she explained. 

I shook my head. “But I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where I should be.”

“That’s why you must see him,” she said patiently. I watched her surreptitiously as we walked. Her tight dark curls formed a sort of hemisphere of hair around her head. Her slim golden brown shoulders were bare, but she had patterned fabric wrapped around her neck and waist. Purple and tan cloth covered her chest and was tucked into the fabric wrapped around her neck and waist. More purple cloth wrapped her forearms and shins over a pair of loose pants. Her transparent form made it difficult to distinguish her feet from the ground. I wondered who she had been in life.

She glanced at me suddenly and I looked up to see us approaching a figure with a distinctive drawn hood over a protruding bone-like structure that split in two partway down, a bit like a beak or insect mandible. Skulls adorned the shoulders of an intricate yet tattered cloak. No part of the being’s body was visible and two faint green glowing spots could be seen just under the drawn hood. The voice that echoed forth sounded warped, like a blending of two different voices. It was commanding but not harsh.

“Come, spirit. Do not be afraid.”

“I’m not sure why I’m here, or even who I am,” I said uncertainly.

“That’s because most spirits find their own way to their fate when they die,” the Judge responded. “But those whose deaths are too traumatic often forget who they were or how they perished.”

“These spirits, like you and me, end up here in the Domain of the Lost,” the Elonian woman added. 

I felt a tug from the faint feeling in the back of my mind that I was in the wrong place. “But I can’t be here.”

“You will reach your rightful place in time,” the Judge was implacable. “First, you must recover your name to know who you were and how you lived. Then you must learn your purpose, to understand the choices you made and why you lived as you did. Once you know your name and your purpose, only then can I determine your final destination.”

“But how do I do that?” I asked.

“Nenah has traveled the path you now face. She can assist you. For though they may have belonged to you in life, once your name and purpose enter this domain, they are yours no longer. And you will have to fight to reclaim your name. Now, arm yourself.” 

I turned away from the Judge feeling as lost as ever. I looked to my companion for guidance. “‘Nenah’… So you discovered your name? How do I reclaim mine?”

She smiled at me. “I learned my name from the spirit of my old mentor. But only after besting him at a challenge of riddles. I discovered my purpose hidden in an old diary I had written as a child. I was a teacher.”

“Is it that simple?”

“It’s different for everyone. The judge said you must fight to recover your name, so you clearly weren’t a teacher. A soldier, perhaps?”

I shook my head. “I… I don’t know.”

“Well, if you are to fight, you must first arm yourself.”

“With what?”

“Spirits must abandon their possessions before they may move on. Look around the area and perhaps you will find something useful.”

She gestured toward an area beyond where the Judge stood. There were tables and crates filled with discarded items. Pots and pans, small children’s toys, and a deck of cards stood out oddly with the multitude of weapons we found. There were other spirits standing confusedly over some of the crates of possessions. I moved to look through some of the things that weren’t being investigated by the other spirits. After some searching, my hands grazed over a finely crafted longbow. Its dark wood was etched with an intricate gilded leaf pattern and framed with gilded bands. I picked it up. The weight and shape of it felt comfortable and familiar. Nenah noticed me lingering over it and came to join me.

“I think I can fight with this,” I said testing the tension on the bowstring. Nenah scanned the area around her and bent down to pick up an abandoned quiver of arrows. As she was handing it to me she turned her head towards a spirit that had drifted close to us.

“That spirit looks just like you,” she observed. I strapped the quiver around my back and followed her gaze. At this, the passing spirit looked startled and sprinted away from us down one of the branching paths nearby.

“Quickly!” she urged. “We must follow it. That spirit may be the one who claimed your name.” 

As we pursued the spirit, it veered off the path and into a cave. The cave the spirit had fled into was not deep and had no exit. I notched my bow with an arrow and took aim at one of its legs as it turned to face me. The arrow went neatly through the spirit’s right leg. Then with a flash it changed shape and the disoriented spirit of an Asura stood in front of me. I tried to remember my name, but my memories were as elusive as ever.

“I still don’t remember,” I said despondently. Nenah looked thoughtful.

“Then more than one must have claimed your name. Which means it must be a prestigious one. Let’s look for another shadow.”

We didn’t have to look far. As we were exiting the cave, we spotted a spirit that looked just like the last one, peering curiously into the opening. Instead of fleeing, this one lunged at me. The lunge was clumsy and I avoided it easily. I countered with a quick blow to the back of the spirit’s head. A flash momentarily blinded the area and the spirit standing before me now had the form of a human with straight shoulder length hair. They looked at me startled for a moment before covering their eyes with an inaudible sob. I turned from the uncomfortable sight and tried to recall my name again.

“No.” I said to Nenah, discouraged. “Still nothing.”

“Keep looking,” she persisted. “If you don’t reclaim your name quickly, you could lose it forever.”

I looked behind me. The spirits who had claimed part of my name still stood there miserably. I wondered if I had known them.

“There!” Nenah exclaimed, drawing my attention. I looked where she was pointing and saw a third spirit some distance away. Like the first one, this spirit also turned and fled as soon as it had been spotted.

“Don’t let it get away!” Nenah said and began to pursue the spirit. I took a quick survey of the area. The terrain between myself and and the fleeing spirit was clear of obstructions and the ground was level as far as the eye could see. I drew my bow and took a moment to aim. Releasing the bowstring I sent an arrow directly into the right shoulder of the spirit. Nenah halted and looked at me in surprise.

“That was some shot,” she said impressed. For some reason, I felt chagrined at the compliment and looked away in embarrassment. Then all of a sudden I felt something return to me.

“Ferenth,” I said. “My name is Ferenth. I remember now.” I furrowed my brow. “My life was filled with conflict. Victory… and loss. I was a leader - a commander.”

“I can tell,” Nenah grinned at me. “You wield that weapon like a true fighter.”

I paused. The bit of memory I had recovered still fell painfully short. “But I don’t know why I fought… what I strove for, or against.”

“The next step is finding your purpose. What drove you forward and ultimately led to your death. The answer is here, somewhere in the Domain of the Lost. You just have to find it.”

I looked at Nenah, feeling adrift again.

“But how will I know it? Where will I find it?”

Nenah walked back to me and put a reassuring hand on my arm. “If you truly desire it… your purpose will find you.”

As if in response, a bird flew out of a scraggly bush nearby and alighted on the tangled limbs of a dead tree some distance away. It looked like a raven but was pure white, with ribbons of mist twisting around its form. Nenah looked back at me.

“I’d start with the bird.”

As we walked towards the bird I felt faint tendrils of dread warring with the sense of urgency propelling me forward. Twice I halted to look around as if for some kind of escape. But to where? My surroundings were bleak and held no promise of comfort. Nenah waited patiently for me each time.

“This part can be difficult for some. As the judge said, those who come here do so because they have met a terrible end. But moving forward is better than staying in this place.”

“Was it difficult for you?” I asked her as much to stall for time as to satisfy my curiosity. “What… what happened to you?”

“I had a friend who would smuggle in books from all over Tyria to me,” she began, “and a small group of students from my classes that were critical and trustworthy enough to share those books with. We met a couple times a month in secret. One night I went to an old farmhouse to meet her and get some new books she had for me. Only she wasn’t the only one there. Patrols from the area had discovered her smuggled goods and turned her over to the local overseer. The overseer had threatened imprisonment for her and her son if she did not reveal who she was delivering the books to.” Her eyes went distant. “At first they tried to bargain with me, wanting to know who I had shared the contents of these books with. When I refused to name my students the overseer reminded me they could force the information from me as an Awakened.” 

A pained expression came over her face as she recalled the memory. “In that moment at least, the gods were with me. A small Sunspear group attacked the overseers and her patrols leaving me just enough of an opening to flee. There was no turning back and no time to say goodbye after that point. If the Sunspears had failed to kill the overseer and patrols there would be no place in Vabbi I could hide for long. My best hope was to make for Amnoon. At first I thought I might make it. I traveled several days to the Elon Riverlands with no pursuit from Awakened patrols. I was no adventurer, and the wilds of the Riverlands are especially perilous to the unprepared, so I chanced taking the main road. Then one morning I was spotted by an Awakened raiding party. In a panic I fled to an abandoned barn nearby and boarded myself in, but I had seen one of the Awakened Abominations demolish a building before and knew it was only a matter of time before they had me again. There was no rescue for me that time. I knew I would die.” Nenah closed her eyes. “Part of me wanted to be a coward. To remain in the world even if it was as an Awakened.” She took a shuddering breath. “Before I let myself make that choice to betray myself and my students, I set the barn on fire with myself in it. It was the only way.”

I looked at Nenah aghast. “I’m… so sorry,” was all I could think to say.

She took my hand and looked at me sadly. “Yes,” she answered, “it was difficult facing the truth of what happened to me. But in the end it was better than the hopelessly lost feeling that had gripped my heart while I was still struggling to find my way when I arrived here. Knowing the truth, I can move on.” She gently tugged my hand and started to move towards the white raven with me. “Don’t worry Ferenth, you don’t have to do this alone.”

Though I still felt an undercurrent of fear threatening to sweep me away, her gesture and her trust comforted me enough to get my legs moving again. We approached the dead tree and the raven, which had been tilting its head pointedly at me, gave a sharp caw and vanished into the air. In front of the tree a familiar figure materialized along with a menacing winged creature.

“ _There! The poison has taken form. Quickly, destroy it while we can!_ ”

It was Caithe, and…

“… the dragon,” I murmured. The ground felt a little firmer beneath me as I reclaimed a piece of my memories and purpose.

“Dragon?” Nenah looked at me with wonder.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “That is my mentor Caithe and a manifestation of a dragon in the Dream.” I gestured to where the figures had stood a moment ago. Nenah looked to where I indicated but shook her head.

“I saw nothing. I was not a part of that memory, so it was not for me to see.”

“Oh,” I said simply. I spread one of my hands out in front of me and looked down at it. “I’m a Sylvari,” I said to her. Though as a spirit I was also transparent, I saw the significance to our differences now.

“The first one I’ve met actually. We never had many that came to Elona, and even less to Joko’s domain. A shame, as everything I’ve read about your culture was fascinating.”

“You read about us?”

“Yes, some of the books I had smuggled from central Tyria had information about Sylvari in them. A few were written by Sylvari too.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but turned her gaze to another white raven that had alighted on the ground nearby instead. “Let’s continue,” she urged.

We progressed through many of my memories. Some hopeful and comforting, some particularly painful. My earliest days spent helping Caithe protect the Grove and learning how to fight dragon corruption, losing Forgal in the initial attack by Zhaitan’s risen on Claw Island, helping Firstborn Trahearne assemble Tyria’s first real lasting hope against the Elder Dragons, achieving the unthinkable as we brought down the Elder Dragon Zhaitan for good… As the pieces of my life fell together I felt more solid, more real. At the same time I could not seem to shake a feeling of wrongness, a nagging sense of unease eating away at the foundations of my being. There were peaceful times I had stolen for myself and many victories, but as the years went on they became fewer and farther between, never quite long enough before some other conflict claimed my attention. 

Nenah was blessedly quiet throughout the process. Many of these memories were not things I wished to explain. I suspect she understood that. The memories from the Pact’s campaign against the dragon Mordremoth were some of the heaviest to carry. I halted for I do not know how long, as I relieved the moment that turned my world upside down, learning of the true reason for my race’s existence in this world and what our purpose was supposed to have been. Nenah had a concerned look on her face as I stood there trying to get myself to move forward again. She put a hand on my shoulder.

“You’ve had a difficult life, haven’t you?” she asked quietly.

I looked at her and nodded silently after a moment. I wanted to say something, but words failed me.

“I don’t know how much more there is for you, but recovering the rest of your memories is the only way to move past them,” she said gently. Somehow I got my feet to move again, though things didn’t become easier from there. So many… so many people were lost to the dragon. The dragon without whose existence I would not have even existed in the first place. And then…

I saw Trahearne in the clutches of the dragon’s heart. “No… no…” I could feel my pulse quicken and despair fill me as I reclaimed the sickening memory. I covered my mouth.

 

_The broken Caladbolg. Trahearne was gone. He… I… I killed him? It was the only way. He would have been corrupted. Mordremoth’s last hateful curse. He wouldn’t have wanted that. But there had to be another way. Any way. Not him, Blessed mother, not him please. He’s gone. The dragon is gone but so is Trahearne. It’s what he wanted. It’s what I had to do? Then why do I feel so hollow? Guilty. Too late. I should have done something. I should have done anything. I should have found a way. There had to have been a way. I didn’t try hard enough. How could I have done such a thing? It should have been me. The Pact can go on without one Commander but without its Marshal? It should have been me._

 

The nauseating cascade of feelings and memories from that moment made my thoughts spin wildly, circling on themselves and becoming harder and harder to endure. I fell to my knees and covered my face, trembling as the devastation and pain of the loss threatened to consume me again.

“Ferenth?” Nenah kneeled down next to me looking alarmed. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened to you but… whatever it was, you deserved better.” Her face went grim suddenly as another ghostly white raven alighted nearby.

“No,” I said suddenly, choking back a frantic sob. “I can’t…”

“Take your time Ferenth, we can stay here a while,” she said soothingly. “The bird will wait.”

Her presence seemed to anchor me here, though my mind still reeled with guilt and sorrow. Why did everything go so wrong? I looked at Nenah’s ghostly form and suddenly recalled her and the Judge’s words.

_… those whose deaths are too traumatic often forget who they were or how they perished. These spirits, like you and me, end up here in the Domain of the Lost._

_What if… Trahearne was here? He had to be._ I took a wavering breath and stood up abruptly.

“Nenah, I’m sorry but I have to go.”

“Go?” she asked confused. “Where would you go?”

“My… friend. He’s here. He has to be. He died… badly. Like you and I. I have to find him. I have to at least say goodbye.”

“Wait!” she said dismayed. “Ferenth, no. There’s no telling how old that memory is. If he came through here he may have already met with the judge and moved on long ago. Even if he is here- this way station, like the mists, is vast. And he may not even recognize you.” Nenah beckoned me towards the raven nearby. “When you’re ready let’s follow the rest of your memories. Once you have all of them you should be able to reach some sort of peace.”

My mind couldn’t accept her words. “You don’t understand,” I tried to explain. “It’s my fault. It’s my fault he’s here. I owe him this. And if he’s lost his memories I can help him get them back.” 

Nenah’s voice rose in protest, but I was already walking away, scanning the horizon for the spirits I had passed earlier, desperately searching for his face among them.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Canach stared blankly as the medic sent another surge of magical electricity through Ferenth’s body. The jolt sent his chest heaving upwards, but other than that there was no noticeable movement from him. Kasmeer had moved over to stand near Canach, to his irritation. At least she was quiet now, a hand over her mouth as she stared wide-eyed at the medic’s efforts to revive Ferenth. He pressed a hand to Ferenth’s forehead for a moment and closed his eyes. With a small shake of his head he positioned his hands on Ferenth’s chest again. Electricity gathered around them and surged out once more. As Ferenth’s body fell back to a resting position he suddenly heaved a loud rasping cough. The medic rolled him over onto his side and more golden sap was expelled from his mouth onto the ground beside him.

“Thank the Six!” Kasmeer exclaimed breathlessly. Had Canach not been flooded with a tentative relief, he might have felt compelled to remind Kasmeer that it was one of the Six who had caused this in the first place. Instead he moved closer to the medic who had closed his eyes and placed his hand on Ferenth’s forehead again. The fit of coughing had subsided and he lay limp on the ground once more. Canach fought back the urge to ask him if Ferenth was going to be alright. His eyes snapped open after a moment and he looked up wearily.

“His vitals are there now,” he confirmed with a relieved sigh. Canach looked from Ferenth’s unmoving form back to the medic.

“So… he’s going to be alright?” Canach asked with doubt in his voice. The medic furrowed his brow.

“Physically… physically he appears to be fine. Though… something’s wrong,” he said hesitantly.

“Why isn’t he waking up?” Kasmeer asked the question that was hanging in the air.

“… it may take some time,” the medic said finally, though the unease Canach could feel coming off him betrayed his misgivings. Canach kneeled down beside Ferenth’s unconconscious form and took one of his hands in his own.

“Ferenth?” he prompted gently. He reached for him with their empathic bond. This time he at least felt a presence, though just barely. The medic rolled Ferenth onto his back and glanced around warily.

“We should move him to somewhere he will be more comfortable, and we are less exposed,” he advised. “Will you carry him to the airship while I prepare a bed?”

Canach nodded and gathered Ferenth up into his arms. The medic turned back partway to where the airship was now waiting.

“Lady Kasmeer would you please join me? And bring Caladbolg,” he requested. She retrieved the sword lying nearby and hastened to catch up with him as he waited for the boarding ramp to be extended. Canach was grateful the medic had removed Kasmeer from his side for the moment. He looked down at Ferenth. The medic had removed the garments from the upper part of his body and Canach cringed as his took in the angry looking wound that spanned a great deal of his chest. It had been sealed well enough but would likely leave a nasty scar.

“What’s going on?” A gruff voice issued from behind Canach. He turned his head to see Rytlock approaching briskly from the steps leading up to the small plateau.

“The medic was able to revive Ferenth, though he isn’t waking up,” Kasmeer informed him. “We’re moving him to a safer location now.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Rytlock said sounding impressed. Canach followed Kasmeer and the medic on to the ship without a word, bristling as he recalled how the Charr’s careless romp in the Mists had allowed the rogue god they were now dealing with to be freed. Inside the airship’s main cabin, shiphands looked at Canach and Ferenth with concern as they exited to give the group space. The medic prepared a makeshift pallet at the back of the room while Kasmeer examined Caladbolg with curiosity. Rytlock stood awkwardly near the entrance to the cabin. Canach set Ferenth down gently on the pallet when the medic was finished setting it up and had disappeared to retrieve his medical supplies. _What if he doesn’t wake up?_ Canach thought as he stood watching Ferenth lying there. The medic returned with a bag and washbasin and Canach pushed the thought away.

“Marshal Trahearne?” he heard Kasmeer ask quietly. Canach turned to look at her. She was turning the sword over in her hands, brow furrowed. “I know he’s in here but… is there anyway we can talk to him?” she looked up at Canach. “Maybe he can tell us what happened.”

Canach recalled something Ferenth had told him. “Ferenth did say that he used a vision crystal to commune with the sword while he was restoring it,” he confirmed to Kasmeer. “We might be able to do the same.”

He looked back at Ferenth who was being cleaned and bandaged by the medic. Though they were rare, he was fairly sure the Commander kept one on him for emergencies like these. Canach waited for the medic to finish bandaging Ferenth’s wounds before fishing a vision crystal from one of his belt pouches.

“Alright, give me Caladbolg and let’s see if the Marshal can tell us why he isn’t waking up.”


End file.
